Would You Be So Kind
by Lillystream
Summary: Ouma wakes up from what feels like a bad dream. He's not sure why he's alive, but he comes to understand. He's always wanted to understand all sorts of things. Then comes along Iruma Miu; someone he could never hope to comprehend.


Ouma tried his best not to panic as the lid to his pod opened, steam hissing throughout the translucent green glass. He had no idea why or how his eyes were open. He was supposed to be dead. He had made sure he was the one under that compress. _Why the fuck was he still alive?_  
He was told it was all a simulation before being taken rather abruptly to a hospital; white walls that were much too sterile for his liking. He hated the smell of hospitals. Too familiar for his liking. The ghost pains wracked his entire body. His far too pale, far too frail body. He felt the pain of being crushed. Of being crushed _alive_.  
He received physical therapy - as well as mental therapy - to get him back to a proper level of functioning. Apparently it was something Danganronpa offered all its participants; apparently it was something all its participants _needed_ after the fact. He was informed that he was going to be taken to a "safe house" with his other castmates. Ouma had heard of the aftermath of Danganronpa casts, but he'd never thought that they were all kept together. He honestly didn't know about the pod situation and the simulation aspect of it either. He knew about the memory erasure and the fact that they all made it in the end; but he figured it was all really good special effects and acting. _He hadn't expected to actually experience the pain of death._  
Being reintroduced to the rest of the cast was a spectacle. They all arrived at different times, in order to "ensure mental stability". He knew that was a lie; it was just to make sure they were physically capable of taking care of themselves and that they were dropping them off in terms of whoever managed to pass all their tests quickest. The first of them that arrived were an odd lot. The three "survivors" were perfectly fine. Well, as fine as people could be after watching all their friends die and being put through a murder game for public entertainment. They had been brought to the safe house immediately after coming to consciousness and had been living at the safe house for months.  
Kaito apparently had joined them fairly quickly as his "illness" was also a fabrication and that had been the way he had "died". Amami would have been with them from the beginning if he hadn't had to go through fixing what the previous season did as well as double checking for any possible brain damage a shot put ball to the head might have done. The Danganronpa workers had cleared most of it, and they would be having "memory restoration" sessions with him further. He apparently wouldn't be able to handle it all at once.  
Ouma showed up sometime after that since his mental state was somewhat better than the others. Evidently some of them were having problems with their "fabrications" and their reality. He didn't understand how he was one of the more stable ones. They all started pouring in after that.  
Himiko was overjoyed when Tenko and Angie showed up and the two girls were also ecstatic to be reunited with her. Maki and Kaito were inseparable as always. Shuuichi and Amami ended up spending quite a bit of time with him and each other. It was… strange. Then Gonta showed up, then Hoshii, then Shinguji.  
Akamatsu and Iruma showed up last.  
He hadn't been expecting that.  
Akamatsu tried her best to be her bright cheery self; but she had been strangled to death over a piano. Her pregame personality had also been so morbid and dark; it was evident in the way she would stare coldly just to blink it away and smile seconds later. She was trying so hard.  
Iruma… was quiet. In the game, where she went crude jokes and loud, cackling laughter followed. Now, however… there were no expletives. No cursing or shouting. She seemed to shadow Akamatsu to a degree as well. Maybe she found solace in the fact that the other girl had been choked too?  
Ouma didn't think that was the case; truly, he didn't know. He never really felt the need to know before. Never cared to; until it became glaringly obvious to him. It all started with her trying to get into the same room as the others. He had been talking with Amami and Shuuichi, Akamatsu was hanging out by the fireplace, and Gonta had been sitting and reading in the other corner.  
"What do you want, you slutty bitch?" Ouma called to Iruma, standing awkwardly in the door frame. "I can't breathe with you contaminating the air in here."  
Instead of getting flustered or looking hot and bothered... Iruma flinched away from him. This caught him and the others off guard. Akamatsu shot him a nasty glare.  
Iruma looked at him... fearfully. As if she had just seen the boogieman under her bed or her inner demons; looked at him like he was her worst nightmare. Or so he thought before she took a look at Gonta and went rigid. Turned so pale that he didn't even think she saw a ghost; he thought she died and became one for a moment. Akamatsu stood and went to her, whispering and leaving Ouma and the others confused.  
He obviously knew that their Danganronpa selves were fabrications. Made up by a staff of old murder hobos and Tsumugi's crazy ass. But he hadn't stopped to think exactly how many of them were "changed" as opposed to "enhanced". Ouma began noticing all the differences between everyone's falsified selves and their pregame selves.  
Momota had to fight off a temper regularly. He did so in the game too, but this was different. He fought snapping at people and grit his teeth. Put so much effort into lowering raised fists and rolling unnecessary anger out of his stressed shoulders. He tried to adapt to his newer, brighter outlook. It got easier as time went on.  
Saihara fought his past self as he became more like his game self. It was easier for him, being one of the season's survivors. He was much more confident than at the start of the season. He tried to calm down when he discussed interests with someone, as his old obsessive self would show through at times.  
And then there was Iruma. Ouma thought she was having the hardest time adjusting. Or, at least was one with bigger pieces to puzzle together. Iruma was made out to be this overconfident - to the point of cockiness - brazen girl who was a "golden girl genius" and didn't care what anyone thought. She was a sex symbol; a girl with the body and mind of a goddess.

The new Iruma didn't act like that at all. She wouldn't get turned on by them getting assertive or aggressive with her anymore. She would get scared. She would flinch and whimper and shy away. Not once since arriving had she raised her voice or demanded attention. He didn't understand.  
Ouma quickly discovered that he knew nothing about Iruma Miu. And the more he realized that he knew nothing the more he wanted to know.  
Why was she such a vulgar nutcase in the game but was a terrified girl in reality? What part of her did they take and mold into the Ultimate Inventor? Was it a part of her that was always there? Why was she so frightened? What happened to her?  
He kept trying at the banter they shared in the game. Wanted some shred of normalcy in this new, unfamiliar life of theirs. Wanted that same power over her, to make her quiver just from being talked back to.

And quiver she did; but it wasn't nearly as fulfilling when it was out of fright and not sexual pleasure. It left a queasy feeling in his gut and made him feel like he committed a crime. He loved the feeling back in the game. This new… or old version of himself didn't. He didn't like causing her this pain; this fear.  
It was both strange yet not strange at all to see Akamatsu defending her so strongly. Ouma wondered exactly what she knew of Iruma. The two weren't that close in game; if anything, he knew Akamatsu somewhat disliked Iruma during their time in the simulation. However, now, there was some sort of deeper understanding in her eyes and Ouma wanted to know. Wanted to share in that understanding.  
Iruma avoided him, and the others, like the plague. He could tell she remembered how he treated her in the game. How everyone treated her. She only allowed Akamatsu, Amami, and Saihara to get anywhere near her. She shied away from the girls nervously and was guaranteed to be on edge when any guy other than Amami and Saihara was near her.  
Ouma couldn't take it anymore. So, he got Akamatsu alone one afternoon, cornering her.  
"Akamatsu-chan!" He called out and saw she was immediately suspicious of him.  
"Yes, Ouma?"  
"You and Iruma-chan seem super buddy buddy lately! What's with that?"  
She regarded him carefully as she said, "Miu is a good friend. Why do you ask?"  
"I'm just really curious you know? You didn't seem to like her that much in the game! And she just seems really skittish now you know? Wonder if she's hiding something..."  
Akamatsu huffed, the light blonde strands of her bangs swishing out of the way and settling back in place. She was trying very hard to be friendly and to keep her wits.  
"Miu has a lot going on. More than any of us knew."  
"Wanna elaborate?"  
"Look Ouma," he could see her struggling to be polite with him, her old self's impatience with people coming through, "it's really none of your business. Miu definitely doesn't trust you so I'm not giving you anything. Besides, we all rewatched this season; don't give me that look, I know you have and so has every last one of us. All of you were happy she was dead. All of you said how much you disliked her and how you wouldn't have even tried to be friends with her outside of this killing simulation." She openly scowled at him. "I don't know why you're trying to pry." Prowling away from him, he could tell she was fuming. "And don't try coming after her with any of this Ouma! She does NOT deserve this from you guys."  
Not that he could if he wanted to. Iruma was rarely alone. Sitting at breakfast with Amami. Reading in the garden with Saihara. In the lounge with Akamatsu. He couldn't get a word in even if he wanted to!  
And it seemed that Akamatsu had alerted Iruma's other two bodyguards about their confrontation. Despite being cool with them individually, any time Ouma sent a look in Iruma's direction, Amami and Saihara sent him scowls that should have sent shivers down his spine.  
The three were very protective of this new Iruma. Or rather old? He didn't know. From what he could tell, she didn't know what to do with it. As if having friends was an entirely new concept to her.  
He also noticed her dressing somewhat conservatively. She wore large tee shirts and baggy sweaters. She didn't wear straps or chokers. She wore sweatpants and joggers; almost anything to cover up. No cleavage, no skin, no nothing.  
He noticed she would reach up for her neck from time to time and Amami would lower her hands and look towards Akamatsu to see if she was triggered by the action. And if she was Iruma would apologize profusely. And Akamatsu would brush her off, laughing, saying it wasn't her fault.  
She wasn't capable of being in the same room as Gonta or himself. He couldn't blame her too badly for it; he WAS what she saw in her final moments as she died.  
That was something he shared with Iruma. They both died so painfully. So… slowly, feeling every moment of it. However, he was aware and consenting of the fact. What he and Gonta did to her was… twisted. Cruel. _Evil.._

His game self was much worse than his previous self. Sure, he told lies and could sniff out other people's deceits like it was nothing, from the get go. But his true self wasn't some evil bastard who ruined people for fun. He was just too curious for his own good.  
Iruma's game self gave her all sorts of confidence; but she was all sorts of crazy because of it. She was morphed into some sort of sex kitten; some fanservice goddess. Reading fan forums told him as much. How much the male fans loved her… wanted her.  
He... almost felt bad for her. Sure, she was this hot slutty chick on the show but... she didn't deserve this. She was under such a heavy male gaze from the audience. Female fans either loved her or hated her too. She didn't deserve it.  
He started looking at her. Not prying, not trying to get anything from her. Just looking.  
She was just as attractive as the forums proclaimed. Sexy, with a nice body. Curves in all the right places, long blonde hair, blue eyes. But... this new Iruma was different. She was... softer. Prettier.  
She smiled gently with Akamatsu, gossiping quietly. She blinked thick lashes at Saihara, chin in her palm, listening to him talk about a book he was reading. She blushed, warm and pink, as Amami complimented her hair and styled it for her.

The Iruma he knew from the game… was sharp. Intense. But then fell into her place immediately. This… was different. Nicer. Honestly, better.  
He found himself wanting to be a part of that. Found himself wanting that inclusion. Wanting those gentle interactions with the others and with _her._ Amami and Saihara would talk with him and so would several of the others. But he wanted to be a comfortable space for her too.  
He began to grow more and more saddened with the fact that she viewed him as a threat. As someone unsafe to be around. He decided to bring it up with Saihara and Amami, since Akamatsu would rip him in half if he tried to talk to her about Iruma again.  
"I want to get closer to Iruma." He came to them open, earnest.  
The two glanced at each other and back at him, like concerned fathers. He knew that they felt bad about keeping him at arm's length with her but he also understood why they did it and so did they.  
"Ouma..." Amami rubbed the back of his neck. "Listen... I'd love for you guys two be friends too, but..."  
"I know I don't deserve it. I know what I did in the game."  
"Ouma..." Saihara's eyes were droopy and sad. "You weren't... that-"  
"Wasn't me?" he interrupted. "You're right. But at the same time it's not quite true. I definitely can't say I'm glad I did all of the things I did in the game. Iruma thought I was the mastermind; of course she tried to kill me. I don't blame her, you know. I was terrible."  
"Ouma..."  
"She's so different. You guys won't tell me what happened."  
Saihara looked disgruntled for a moment.  
"Is that why you're trying to start talking to her? Just to figure out 'what's wrong with' Miu?"  
Ouma couldn't quite explain it but he found that he didn't like that. He didn't want Saihara on first name basis with his girl. _His girl_?  
"No. I want to get to know her. I want what you guys have. I want to be there for her and I want to show her that I can be that for her."  
"Kaede won't like that," Amami sighed to himself. "But we can... start moving things in the right direction, if that's how you feel."  
Ouma's smile was genuine and warm.  
"You guys are the best!"  
"Hold up." Saihara crossed his arms. "We can help... to an extent. We're not going to try and manipulate Miu. We can put in a good word for you, but at the end of the day it's between you and her. But... if she's open to it we-"  
"Yeah, you're right. It's up to her. If she doesn't want to talk to me, I'll respect her."  
This caught the other two off guard.  
"Okay..." Saihara relented. "As long as you... remember that..."  
It took some time, he had to admit. He waited patiently for his opportunity. He could see Amami or Saihara ducking their heads to say something to her. And Iruma would look up at him, catch his eyes, and swiftly look away. Some weeks went by like this. He knew that it wasn't even a guarantee that she would let him in. Ouma… knew he didn't really deserve it.

So he was very surprised when, just a month later, Amami waved him over as he and Iruma were sitting in the lounge. Akamatsu wasn't around; really, it was just the three of them in the room. He shuffled over nervously, looking to Iruma for permission.  
She seemed understandably nervous. Her eyes, a somewhat gray blue, flittered between looking at him and looking at her lap, never quite meeting his gaze. He sat somewhat away from her, but angled towards her and Amami.

"Heya guys! What's going on?" She seemed to jolt somewhat, and he made a note to lower his volume. "Whatcha talking about?"

Iruma's lip trembled as she seemed to try and answer him. He waited patiently and couldn't help but be somewhat disappointed when her slender fingers reached for Amami's sleeve for support.

"We were just talking about what dinner might be! Maybe we should help Kirumi and Kaede with it, huh Miu?" Amami supplied, helping to push her along.

"Y-yeah…"

Ouma made a show of nodding along and smiling. "That sounds like a good idea, Amami-chan! But, maybe we should leave the cooking to the professionals and have it be a surprise. Besides, who can count for how good your cooking is?"

He saw Iruma smile a little bit and Amami's lips turn down a little, though his eyes still held humor.

"Hey, I resent that. I might not know how to cook for, like, fifty siblings anymore, but I can at least cook a little bit," he tried defending, though he couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. He turned to Iruma and added, "Besides, Miu's been showing me how to cook. So I've gotten way better."

Ouma turned his eyes towards Iruma, whose cheeks had gotten somewhat pink at the attention. "Oh? Iruma-chan can cook?"

She curled her fingers around each other, looking up at him nervously.

"Yeah…"

"Yeah," Amami carried through. "She's really good, actually. She's cooked for us a couple of times when we missed dinner or didn't want to eat with the larger group."

She nodded along, not adding anything further.

They kept up like this for a short while, Ouma and Amami just talking to each other, including Miu where appropriate, just aquainting her to his company. He didn't push, didn't pry, and didn't ask her anything directly if he could help. He didn't want to move anything along too quickly. And, over time, he could tell it was working. She would offer nervous smiles or small waves of her hand.

Akamatsu was made aware of the proceedings and had no choice but to accept him as Miu already had begun to. And he knew it wasn't anything personal against him; Akamatsu simply had Iruma's best interests in mind. She wanted to keep the other girl safe from the harsh world they had been thrust into and he found himself sharing in the sentiment.

He didn't know what had happened to Iruma, but he could tell it was too much. He'd gotten severely bullied before the 53rd season of Danganronpa picked him up. Ouma had been picked on, beaten, harassed, mocked, and more. This girl… Looking at Iruma and the way she trembled. Whatever he'd gone through wasn't anything compared to whatever hell she'd been put through.

When Ouma made this known to Amami, he was simply given a stern look as he said, "Ouma, pain isn't a competition. You didn't deserve what you got either."

But he thought Amami and the others didn't get it. He didn't want it to be a competition, per say; he didn't want either of them to win that kind of contest. He simply knew what pain looked like and he saw it reflected and magnified in Iruma's gray blue eyes.

He felt a strong clench in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought about who hurt this girl. Was it many people? Was it a few? Was it just a single person who caused such fear and pain? He wanted to find each and every last one and punish them for such a crime.

Because… when she wasn't trembling or shaking… looking scared and nervous… she smiled warmer than the sun. Her little twinkle in her eye at playing board games with him and Akamatsu. The way her lips curled, pleased, when he offered to watch kids' shows with her. He saw it in the way she sighed when Amami pat her head or the way she giggled when Saihara told her stories. Her smile held such power over him.

Before Ouma had realized it, he'd fallen in love with this new Iruma Miu. Or, this old Iruma Miu. Rather… the blend of the two.  
He didn't know what to do with this information.

Ouma wouldn't go and say anything like "she deserves better than him" because, despite it being true and him knowing it was true, he didn't want her to have someone better. He was selfish, and wanted to be the one to protect her.

And by god he wanted to protect her. He didn't want anything bad to ever happen to her again. But he simply pushed this down for the time being; he'd just been allowed in. Ouma knew rushing into affection wasn't wise at this point.

So, instead, he would play board games with her and the others. They would all laugh in good cheer when she lost horrendously at monopoly. She kicked their asses at Mario Kart, the only one holding a flame to her being Harukawa. Angie and Tenko eventually convinced her to play Just Dance with them when Himiko said she didn't want to do anything so physical. She helped Akamatsu and Tojo cook group meals and helped Kiibo with his prosthetics and physical therapy. And eventually, the others started opening up to Miu as well. And… with some time, she allowed them to.

She was still wary of him and Gonta, subconsciously. Whenever Gonta moved near her, he saw her flinch and then right herself. It was similar with him still. She was working on it, for sure, but he hated the way he saw fear before recognition flicker in her gaze.

Though, being outside of the simulation, and along with their regular therapy sessions, the group managed to find themselves a normal routine. None of them found themselves wishing they could see their old families; they hadn't had any sort of group bonding experiences of opening up that deep with each other. No backstories had been truly shared or delved into aside from the odd tidbit or anxious moment of oversharing. But he could tell. Somehow, all fifteen of them appeared to have not had the best time before or during Danganronpa.

They hadn't even heard anything of Danganronpa for months. Until Tsumugi and some unnerving guy done up in a three piece suit wearing a fake smile walked through their front doors and situated everyone in the lounge.  
"We're here to announce the popularity poles of the season!" Tsumugi informed them brightly, completely ignoring the way they all stared at her. "The season has fully aired and we wanted to wait until everyone had solid opinions of the characters before going through with the poll."  
"Who cares?" Ryoma grumbled, pulling his beanie over his eyes. "This garbage is behind us anyways."

"Well, Ryoma!" Tsumugi looked somewhat offended. "Why wouldn't you wanna know who the fans like the best? I simply think it's important to know where you stand with your audience."

"Well spoken, young Shirogane," the man spoke up. "It's nice to meet you all, by the way. Well I suppose that's not correct. We met before the simulation took off. I am the director of the Board of Selection; young Shirogane being one of my apprentices. She certainly proved herself by helping us pick out an interesting batch of characters for this season. So I would certainly love to see where you all land."

Tsumugi smiled, a slight crazed look in her eye, as she brought out her tablet with the apparent results.  
"Ehem… In first place... Saihara Shuuichi! Congratulations!"  
"Wha..? Me?" Saihara looked confused.  
"You're the seasons protag!" she chided. "Of course you're going to be popular with the fans! That one's a given, Shuuichi!"  
Ouma came in second place, somehow. He was apparently a huge hit with the fans.  
Kaede was in third. For being one of the first two to die and being the first blackened of the season, it was an unprecedented event. Never had one of the first blackened been so popular. Though it had seemed that the fans liked their quirky "false protagonist" quite a bit.  
And then Miu came in forth and even Tsumugi and the suit guy seemed surprised.  
Miu was particularly surprised.  
"Wow Miu! Good for you!" Tsumugi smiled, bubbly and empty. The only genuine thing about her stare was the shock at Iruma's placement.  
The man in the suit smiled at her, creepy and cloudy. "Congratulations Miss Iruma. We designed you to be the least liked character in the entire franchise, nonetheless the season, so you can imagine my surprise right now!"  
Ouma felt his face scrunch up in anger.  
Akamatsu, Amami, and Saihara looked just as livid as he felt.

The others shifted in unease at the entire situation, each looking a different degree of perturbed and upset.

Miu stared at the ground.

"Of course, we figured you would be popular in the sense of being our fanservice girl, but you're actually quite a fan favorite! What a feat! We'll be sure to take note of that for future seasons."

He saw her fists clench and her shoulders stiffen, and he grit his teeth.

"What do you mean you designed her to be the least liked character?" Momota growled. "Why would you set her up for something like that?"

"Oh, interesting question, young Momota. You see, we've had raunchy pervert characters in the past that the fans simply hated. So, we thought we would try applying the stereotype to an attractive female character instead. And it lead to such an interesting phenomenon!"

Miu looked up at the man, hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides. "Why would you do that to me?"

Tsumugi looked affronted. "I'm sorry?"

"Why would you make _me_ that character!?" Iruma screamed at Tsumugi, catching everyone off guard. "Is it because I told you about my father!? Because I didn't have any friends? You made me that unlikeable when I told you all I wanted to be was liked? You're sick!"

Tsumugi frowned. "But you're so liked now, Iruma. I'm confused. The fans love you! You're incredibly well liked. Your personality is a bit undesirable, but you came out with such a favorable result."

"You're disturbed," Ouma heard Akamatsu growl out. Iruma's shoulders were heaving up and down.

He went to her. Put his arm on her shoulder and lead her out of the room. She let him. He asked no questions and he ignored the faint sounds of shouting and arguing behind them. He took her to her room, standing awkwardly in front of the door.

"Do you want to be alone?" he asked simply.

"No."

Ouma's heart clenched as she opened the door and looked at him with her sky hued eyes. It fluttered as she tugged gently on his sleeve, ushering him in after her. He swore it stopped when she shut the door behind them.

She sat on the bed and looked at him, eyes red and tired. She pat the spot next to her. And he wanted to go to her but…

"Are you sure?"  
"I'm sure."

"... but, Iruma-"

"Kokichi." His chest clenched in surprise before swelling greatly. "I'm positive… thanks for getting me out of there."

And he went to her. He steadied her shaking shoulders and asked if he was allowed to touch her. She nodded. He asked if she was okay with him brushing the tears off her cheeks. She smiled. He made sure she was alright with him clasping her hands. She squeezed back.

"I… didn't want to join Danganronpa." Her admission was quiet and sudden. "I… just wanted to be liked. I knew all the girls in my class loved Danganronpa and I… was seriously stupid. Thought that joining would make me more popular with people…"

"Miu…"

"I didn't have friends before. I'm sorry I'm… not used to it."

Ouma shook his head. "You don't owe me any apologies. You… deserved better. You still do…" He felt stupid.

"I still can't believe they made me some sort of sex symbol," she lamented, hiccuping and trying not to sob again. "They knew what happened…"

He didn't know what happened. Whatever it was; he was angry. But he didn't pry. Didn't ask for the answers to the questions he had no right to know about. All he could do was care for her and look after her for now.

He hadn't noticed they'd fallen asleep watching some magical girl anime until he woke up the next morning, sunlight streaming in from Miu's window. He found himself in an… interesting and heartstopping situation.

Ouma and Iruma were wrapped up in each other, her slender arms wrapped around him and his leg curled in between hers. He felt his hand resting against her lower back, and one of hers was curled in his hair.

He panicked in silence, not wanting to wake her up. She looked so peaceful… also there was no telling how she would react. But he couldn't just pry himself loose; her hand was literally wrapped up in his hair, holding on for dear life.

Ouma shuddered and tried to at least get his leg out from in between her thighs. And that was when he noticed an even worse predicament. He stared down at his shorts, silently cursing himself. Now he _definitely_ couldn't wake her up.

She shifted her thigh over his and murmured in her sleep.

 _You're not helping me! Iruma!_

He gulped, trying his hardest not to breath heavily and freak out. He could keep his cool. And he succeeded for the most part, gently pushing her legs off of him and getting her to loosen her grip on his hair.

Ouma had finally managed to get themselves entirely untangled, before God decided to curse him by sending someone knocking on Miu's door first thing in the morning. He looked down at her in a frenzied panic as she rubbed sleepily at her eyes.

He did the first thing that came to mind.

He threw himself, off of the bed, and onto the floor pretending to still be asleep. His heart beat thunderously in his chest as she padded past him to the door. He heard quiet, murmured conversation between her and someone who sounded like Akamatsu before the door closed again.

Suddenly Miu was in his face.

"Kokichi."

He gasped in surprise and recoiled, banging his head against her bedframe.

"I didn't mean to stay I promise!" he found himself defending in a whisper yell. "You turned on that cartoon and I should have left but-"

She smiled at him, catching him off guard. "You're fine. I'm sorry I kept you up so late. Also you didn't have to throw yourself on the floor; I knew you were up there with me."

"You _what!?_ "

"I mean, you were kind of pushing me off of you. I was just really comfy and didn't wanna get up." She glanced down at his lap. "You also last a bit longer than I'd thought. You might wanna take care of that."

He felt his face burn. His shorts still had a tent. Ouma looked up at her, dreading to see the discomfort that would be there. Though he was surprised to see that it was less discomfort and more… intrigue?

"I am so sorry," he hung his head. "I swear I don't normally do this-"

She blushed. "Oh well um… I kind of hoped not. I'd… like to be a special exception. I don't really like the idea of you waking up with other sluts-" she stopped, shaking her head, "girls, either. You having a boner would just make it worse, I think."

He couldn't even formulate any sort of response in his mind, so what ended up coming out of his mouth was nothing but flustered gibberish.

"Uhhuabbbub...uh..."

"I'm sorry… was that too forward?"

"Did you… just basically ask me out?"

She seemed worried as she looked to him. "Would you… be upset if I was?"

Ouma grinned and wanted to pull her towards him, but thought better of it as the friend in his lap hadn't quite calmed down yet.

"I wouldn't be upset at all."


End file.
